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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016735">twisted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantomachy/pseuds/gigantomachy'>gigantomachy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>L/Light Filth [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Note (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boys in Chains, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Facials, Fantasizing, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation, POV Yagami Light, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sharing a Bed, Somnophilia, Yotsuba Arc (Death Note), filthy filth, why am i like this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:15:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantomachy/pseuds/gigantomachy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An unplanned PWP sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182864">"twist your arctic heart."</a> Unredeemable filth. Heed the tags and only read if you are a trash person like me.</p><p>Set during the Yotsuba Arc, one week after the events of my previous story. Light Yagami finds himself with a compulsive, shameful habit, and he's sure it's L's fault.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>L/Yagami Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>L/Light Filth [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>twisted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title is meant to indicate both the fact that this is a sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182864">“twist your arctic heart”</a> as well as the nature of the contents. This story can be read whether or not you’ve read the previous one. I wasn’t intending to write a sequel, but… here we are. Starting a series just in case I feel compelled to write more of these, but I don't have anything planned right now.</p><p>I've been working on this nice, kinda smutty but wholesome multi-chapter fic, and then my trashcan of a brain decided to distract me with this filth. (If you only know me through my multi-chapter L/Misa story, please tread lightly. I seem to save my most fucked-up ideas for L/Light oneshots.)</p><p>I did not apply any archive warnings (if y’all think this was a mistake, let me know), but at the same time, I would add a <b>major</b> CW for this story, as it not only falls on the border between extremely dubious consent and sexual assault, but it also includes a character fantasizing about doing blatantly non-consensual things. Overall, this is a trash story written by the horny trash person who lives in my brain. I don’t know why I’m like this, but if the reception to my last L/Light story is anything to go by, at least I’m not alone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Light Yagami has a problem.</p><p>It has been a week since his first, and only, sexual encounter with L. In terms of their relationship, nothing has changed. They still work together to try to catch Kira, and they’re still chained together 24 hours a day. They still act like friends, though they also frequently get into arguments and even actual fights.</p><p>They haven’t spoken of what happened between them, not even once. They haven’t spoken about how L had climaxed by dry-humping Light in his sleep, or the blowjob that L had given Light at his demand for some sort of twisted reciprocity. They haven’t spoken about how Light had gotten carried away, had used L too roughly, rougher than he had consented to, or about the degrading things that Light said to him while he did it. They haven’t spoken about how much his Kira percentage had increased from that one act, not since the moment after it happened.</p><p>Light should be grateful that L is letting it drop. He isn’t gay, after all, and he isn’t a bad person either. He hadn’t meant to hurt L. He had just gotten a little carried away. In all, it was best for both of them that they pretend it never happened.</p><p>And during the day, Light is grateful. During the day, Light is more than happy to never mention it again.</p><p>The nights are a different story.</p><p>This is Light’s problem. He never plans to do it. Really, he doesn’t. Every night, when he goes to bed, he tells himself that it’s over, that he won’t do it this time.</p><p>But, every night now, L stays up later than Light, working alone on his laptop. And every night, when L climbs into the bed to sleep, the movement wakes Light up. He’s such a light sleeper these days. And every night, rather than trying to go back to sleep, Light lays awake with his heart racing, waiting for the sound of L’s breathing to slow.</p><p>He tries to think about other things. Really, he does. He thinks about Misa, or about the porn magazines that he used to read. But none of them can compete with the memory of that night, and nothing can keep his mind from wandering back to it as he lays there in the darkness next to L. None of them are as real as the way L’s mouth had felt around his cock.</p><p>None of them are as real as the way L had sounded when he choked. That is the sound that Light always comes back to, night after night. The moment that his hips had bucked upward, so harshly that L gagged, throat convulsing around him. The moment that L had begun to struggle, pushing against Light’s hips. The moment that Light had wrapped one leg over L’s body and grabbed his head in both hands and held him down, and L had given up, sucking him until he came.</p><p>It always starts slow. His heart pounds, certain that L will wake up at any moment, but Light is so hard, always so hard at the memory of L, that he can’t help but slip one hand down to cup himself through his boxers. He bites his lip as he begins to stroke.</p><p>And that, by itself, might be forgivable. If it just stopped there. Jerking off in bed next to his sleeping friend, touching himself to the memory of choking said friend on his cock, is fucked up, but it isn’t that bad compared to what has already passed between them.</p><p>But every night, like a magnet, Light finds himself pulled until he’s leaning over on his side so that he can watch L as he touches himself. And every night, though he promised himself that he wouldn’t, not this time, he eventually pulls himself free of the blanket and rises to his knees beside him, until his bare cock is only a few inches from L’s sleeping face.</p><p>It’s so hard to stay quiet, but Light bites his lip. He doesn’t even know if L is really asleep. Sometimes, he thinks that there’s no way, that the sounds and the movements must wake him up, that he is only pretending, allowing Light to get away with this for some unfathomable reason. Other times, Light believes the opposite, that L is sleeping as soundly as he appears to be, totally unaware of the twisted thoughts and movements of his friend beside him.</p><p>Either way, Light has to be quiet. Quiet enough to avoid waking L up, or, if he’s awake, quiet enough that L can still pretend to be asleep, that the act doesn’t become impossible to maintain.</p><p>So he bites his lip and chokes back every sound. As he continues, the skin of his lip invariably breaks. The wound, always fresh, always bloody, is the only sign he wears during the day of the transgressions he commits at night.</p><p>He can’t take his eyes off L’s mouth. No matter how hard he tries to think of something else, the fantasy is always the same. What he wants is to open L’s mouth and push himself inside, press his hot cock against L’s slack tongue, slide back into that throat. To take his limp head in his hands and move it, sliding his unresisting mouth up and down the length of his throbbing cock like a fleshlight.</p><p>Every night, he thinks he has never wanted anything more, that he has never been harder in his life, than he is from picturing this, and from picturing what would come next.</p><p>L’s eyes opening. His movements, his noises, as he comes out of a deep sleep to find Light already buried in his throat, looming over him in the dark. The confusion in his eyes, the realization. Light wants to watch L’s eyes as he realizes how little it matters, how little Light cares, whether he is conscious or not. Whether he sucks or just lays there and takes it. As he realizes that his brain, his power, his identity as L, none of it matters. Those things define their relationship during the day. But here, in the dark, he is nothing. He’s just a wet hole for Light to stick his cock in, awake or asleep. An object, something Light uses to masturbate.</p><p>He wonders if it would make L feel small. He hopes that it would. Stroking himself now, in front of L’s face, he feels bigger than he ever has.</p><p>He wonders what L would do next. Would he accept it, hollow his cheeks and suck him? Would he do it because he enjoys it, or because he wants it to end, or both? Or would he just go limp and let it happen? Or would he fight?</p><p>Only in these moments can Light admit to himself that he hopes L would fight him. He wants it so badly he aches. He wants to fuck that helpless throat as L’s hands scrabble uselessly against his hips, trying to push him off. He wants to hold his head in both hands, twist his fingers in that stupid uncombed hair of his, pin him against the bed, and <i>make</i> him take it. To make him choke on it, just so that Light can feel it, can get off on the feeling. He wants to feel L’s throat spasm around his cock, still trying to turn his head, to push him away, to escape, to breathe, as Light pins him down and spills down his throat and forces him to swallow every last drop.</p><p>This is why Light never wakes him up, never touches him. Because he knows that he won’t be able to stop himself, that he’ll do something even worse than last time. So all he ever does is stare at his mouth and jerk off, his grip almost painfully tight.</p><p>As he gets close, he holds his fist in place and thrusts into it, supporting himself over L with his free hand. With each thrust of his hips, he pushes so far forward that the head of his cock, the hot and throbbing center of his focus, is only an inch away from L’s lips, from his cheek. He thinks that it would feel unimaginably good, mind-blowing, just to touch himself to that skin, not even to push inside.</p><p>He doesn’t do that, either. He knows how little self-control he has on these nights. If his cock touched L’s skin, even for an instant, he would lose it. He would end up humping L’s face like a dog, just thrusting mindlessly against his smooth skin until he came. Even the mental image, as ridiculous as it is, makes him throb and forces him to bite back a moan.</p><p>So Light settles for fucking his fist, leaning over L completely now, jerking off harder and faster than he ever used to, feeling like some kind of demon, some animal. And when he cums, it’s always to the image of straddling L’s face and fucking his throat by force as he tries in vain to push Light off of him, and even just imagining it is so good that he almost blacks out from pleasure. But he forces himself to keep his eyes open, because this is the best part: when he shoots his fucking load all over L’s sleeping face. His cock never touches him, but his cum gets everywhere, covering L’s face, his hair, even his pillow.</p><p>For a second, Light feels euphoric, almost victorious. L is disgusting, keeping him locked up here when he’s innocent, having those dreams about Light, putting these thoughts in Light’s head in the first place. Making Light want to do these things to him. Light was never like this, not until he met L, so he knows it must be his fault. And so, when Light cums on him, he’s just paying him back, making L as dirty as L has made him. Bringing him down to his level.</p><p>Then it’s gone, and Light is cold and empty. He looks down at L in the moonlight, feeling a strange sense of detachment from the situation. It couldn’t have been Light who did this, could it?</p><p>“Disgusting,” he whispers, almost thoughtfully, looking down at the mess he’s made of the man he calls his friend.</p><p>Light doesn’t know if L is truly asleep for these offenses of his, or if he’s just pretending. But he does know that L is aware of what Light does to him every night. He knows because he doesn’t clean up after himself. He always leaves L like that, his release drying on his face, and goes back to bed.</p><p>And every morning, L cleans it up, washing his face in the sink with a soapy washcloth while Light watches him. L never says a word, but he manages to ruin it for him anyway. The euphoria is gone in the mornings, as is the sense of victory, and Light is left feeling small and ashamed. Ashamed of what he has done, and of the fact that even this violation isn’t enough to provoke a true reaction from L.</p><p>L never shows any emotion on his face while he cleans up, either positive or negative. The most that Light gets from him is a sense of mild, resigned annoyance, as though Light is a naughty child who has spilled something on his clothing. It makes Light want to shake him, to slap him, to demand that he explain why he keeps allowing Light to violate him like this. Does he like it? Is he just adding it to his list of evidence that Light is Kira? Does he even fucking care how disgusting it is? How disgusting <i>they</i> are, Light and L both? Light is sick with it, but L doesn’t seem to care at all.</p><p>And so, like every other battle between them, L wins this round, too. Light never brings it up. If L doesn’t think it’s worth speaking about, then Light doesn’t, either. He just feels small and stupid and tells himself that he’ll stop, that he won’t do it again. But he <i>does</i>. Every night, without fail. This is Light Yagami’s problem.</p><p>Sometimes, it’s enough to make him wish he really <i>was</i> Kira. Because, each morning, as he watches L wash the evidence down the drain, he thinks, <i>The only time I’ll ever win against L, the only time I’ll ever have any power over him, will be if I kill him.</i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>jesus christ y'all, someone stop me</p></blockquote></div></div>
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